Fall Leaves Falling

One of my Raptor neighbors at The Roost  

     Almost a week ago today I awoke on the couch of The Roost, my summer home. From my curled upon position under a nest of scavenged blankets I could see the large window spanning the living room, and outside of it the usual scene, green trees and brown trunks, the tops of wooden raptor cages, but that morning a week from tomorrow there was something new. Golden leaves falling gently through the air, and the summer rains had so many times, but this time that treasure of fall was falling... one by one ever so gently and delicately golden leaves falling amidst the greenery of late summer.
    Of course by now you know me, it was so representational, so significant. This magnificent summer ended one day past and waking up, after my very last night in The Roost, and seeing the season of autumn upon us, marked the ending of that time. While the summer was both hard and perfect, and crazy and amazing, by Saturday I didn't feel sadness packing up all my belongs into the trunk of my car, promising to stay in contact with my friends, perfecting a last practical joke or two on future residents, and a hidden welcome letter to one. It was such an amazing and great ending, so fulfilling. Then came the real goodbyes, wonderful sincere hugs and well wishes, but it wasn't until my boss, the head of command all summer started to cry that she would miss us, that I fell apart. To quote Black Beauty
    "What a wonderful place!" I mean... what other job can you have where tears are the only adequate parting among a boss and yourself. I shall surely miss it, that is certain, and yet as I say this it is not a matter which so quickly ends, but something that fades into something. I have already been back to visit twice, not able to stay away, no it is no longer my home, but I left a piece of my heart there which I will need to visit often.
   Now I am home again, an old home, a new home. A familiar bed and house, but a different sense of the world as it is, a knowledge that I am not the same person. I now have six free months of life, free... in a matter of speaking, no jobs, no major obligations. A new family member arrives tomorrow, an exchange student, time spent feeding at my old barn, a wonderful horse down the road when I want her. I have one more year to be a teenager, one more year to be 19, and one whole year of crazy possibilities.